Redeeming Draco Malfoy
by Nova.8
Summary: The summer after the war in a new Ministry rebuilding programme, Ginny Weasley learns that there is more to the proud, arrogant wizard she had hated on principle and by association. While he had never given her a reason to see him as anything more than a rich, world class prat before, redeeming Draco Malfoy might just leave Ginny susceptible to falling for him ... and him her.
1. Chapter 1

Personal challenge into writing something that isn't heavy with angst and drama, as is my normal style. Happy reading!

* * *

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

* * *

_**Chapter One**_

**GINNY** Weasley's big, brown eyes opened widely to bright sunlight filtering through her bedroom window. She took a moment to register her surroundings. Slowly a smile formed on her full, pink lips and she stretched lazily in her tiny but comfortable bed.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took in the sounds of the birds chirping outside in the orchard, the rattling of pots and pans downstairs and the wonderful aroma of bacon and eggs wafting up to her bedroom.

Peace.

The war had been over for three months now and with the coming of summer things had started to sway from the deadly gloom everyone had been feeling to acceptance. Light and hope had filtered through the cracks of loss they had all experienced, healing wounds and reminding everyone that they were alive. That a new dawn had emerged and it was time to move forward.

While it had not been an easy task to take the first step forward on a road that Ginny was certain still had many speed bumps along the way, where some of them would lose the strength to go on at some point, as long as they had each other then they would all be fine – eventually.

For now it was Ginny's mission to smile and ensure everyone else around her knew that they could count on her if they needed. Having duties to occupy oneself with, definitely was a good way to keep the mind focused on the present instead of dwelling on the past and ruining the future.

Ginny quickly pulled on a well worn but still cosy dressing gown and headed to the bathroom. "It's going to be a great day today."

She told herself as she stared at the water dribbling down her face in the mirror and took in a deep breath. She wiped her face dry and smiled at her reflection before nodding at herself. She had taken to starting of her days with confidence and positive energy ever since the war had started and if she hadn't then she doubted she would have managed to keep her sanity.

Ginny jogged down the rickety old steps of the Burrow and was thankful that she still had her home, her parents and family. Even though there would always be a painful buzzing in her chest for Fred, she knew there were better ways to honour her brother's memory than to sit and spend her days wallowing away. That was not something Fred would have wanted either. And she had cried so much in the past three months that Ginny told herself she couldn't possibly have any more tears left to shed.

Something that was not true however, the smallest mention of Fred or Remus and Tonks, or Collin and every other friend who had died during the war could still make tears spring to her eyes and her throat burn with sadness, so she remembered not to look back but forward. Harry had helped her monumentally with overcoming Fred's death and she and George had spent quite a lot of time reliving their times with Fred so they could let go. This at least allowed her some modicum of composure when it mattered most.

"Morning, mum." Ginny greeted and she watched her mother turn around from the pots Molly Weasley stood over.

"Good morning, Ginny." Mrs Weasley smiled at her daughter as Ginny placed a kiss on her plump cheek.

One thing Ginny had definitely learned from the war was to appreciate your family more and life was too short to go around wearing a cloak of self pity. While there was a light absent from Mr and Mrs Weasley's eyes, as no parent should have to bury their child, as was missing in George's eyes, Ginny knew in her heart that that would change one day. One step at a time.

"Everyone's off to work then?" Ginny asked as she looked at the clock on a kitchen counter nearby, the clock that actually told the time.

"Yes, dear. I thought you deserved a bit of a sleep in." Mrs Weasley bustled around the kitchen, setting down breakfast for herself and her daughter.

Mrs Weasley had lost much weight of late but that was to be expected and her mother was eating properly again. Ginny was just pleased that life seemed to be slowly going back to normal. Well as normal as could be. There were many changes that had taken place after the war, some more difficult than others and some that would only become easier with time. Yet the Weasley family – extended members included – dealt with it in their normal Gryffindor ways.

"Thanks mum." Ginny appreciated as she smiled warmly at her mother. She was about to sit down when she noticed a large tawny owl swooping towards their kitchen window. "I'll get it, mum." Ginny placed a small hand on her mother's shoulder to keep Mrs Weasley in her seat as the younger witch untied the letter from the Ministry owl before the bird flew away gracefully again.

Ginny took the mail that was addressed to her and opened the Ministry seal carefully. Her bright brown eyes widened almost comically, so much so that it was quite possible they would pop out of her sockets if she didn't stop glaring at the piece of parchment in her hands.

In bewilderment she read the correspondence she had received for her summer internship once more, before turning it over to ensure it was the Ministry seal on the letter. She then read the letter again before bringing it closer to her eyes. When she was certain that she had read the words properly she brought it up to her nose.

One may think it a silly notion to sniff new parchment but Ginny knew better. She could tell if that letter was a joke from George and Ron by the way it smelled. It was something that the twins … Ginny stopped abruptly as she remembered that it was only George now. She was not going to be plagued by sad thoughts. George was doing fine, her family was coping and the war had been over for three months now.

"Ginny dear, what are you doing?" Mrs Weasley turned to see why her daughter had not yet returned to their old wooden table for breakfast. Mrs Weasley watched Ginny lean against the windowsill as she suspiciously licked her thumb and tried to rub at the black ink, scripted neatly and professionally against the crisp parchment in her hand.

"I am simply checking if this is a hoax mum." Ginny grumbled as she turned the letter up and down in her hand.

"What is, Ginny?" Mrs Weasley set down her cutlery as Ginny went over to sit next to her mother.

With Hogwarts completely wrecked and a war to clean up after, term at Hogwarts would only start in October rather than September that year. It allowed the dust to settle, literally and figuratively as Hogwarts was only just nearing its completion stages of being rebuilt and the Ministry wanted to ensure that the Castle would not be a danger to its students. There were many people who had been on the run and were slowly being found and returning home. It also was an ideal opportunity for rebuilding of their community.

Ginny had decided to sign up to a Ministry rebuilding programme since she had turned seventeen weeks ago. The Repentance Workshop.

A way for young adults to assist with the appropriate punishment of other magical beings their own age, without locking up unnecessary beings in Azkaban. It was something that Harry, Ron and Hermione had come up with for Kingsley. It ensured that the younger, aspiring Death Eaters learned that they could not get away with their actions without any atonement being made, but were not held accountable by the same laws that punished fully grown wizards. Kingsley felt that Azkaban would do more harm than good for the young witches and wizards – who were simply misguided by their parents, in his eyes – and being paired with good witches and wizards would help show them the light, so to speak.

Hermione had suggested something that Muggles called community service and the new Minister of magic had thought it a brilliant plan to implement. Who wouldn't anyway, considering it had come from the brightest witch of their age, backed up by Harry Potter – Chosen One and defeater of the Dark Lord. There was after all a lot of rebuilding to be done and Ginny was never much one for sitting idly on the sidelines.

Now she was seriously rethinking her chivalrous choice.

"Oh my." Molly said softly as she too turned over the letter to make sure it wasn't a joke.

"Exactly." Ginny agreed while biting into a streak of bacon with a little more ferociousness than was necessary, all the while thinking how she would chew and spit out whoever it was that had picked her Repentance Workshop partner.

The letter that had officially arrived for her today had included instructions on her new charge. Her project was none other than Draco Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

Draco Malfoy shielded his eyes with the back of his arm as his mother opened the thick and expensive curtains of his large bedroom.

"Mother." Draco groaned out as he turned around on his stomach and buried his face into his fluffy pillow.

He reconsidered moving so fast as his head spun from the sensation. He wondered if he could convince his mother to brew up a hangover remedy for him as he was sure he had forgotten to replenish his stock himself.

"Up, Draco. I can not believe that you would come home at three this morning." Narcissa Malfoy reprimanded as Draco heard her approach the foot of his bed.

He moved his head a little to the right so he could peak at his mother with one bleary, grey eye. She stood tall and impressive as she always did in her immaculate dress robes, not a strand of her shiny blonde hair out of place. It was only her icy blue eyes that gave Draco an indication of how pissed she really was with him.

"Don't worry mother, I was up in Scotland with Theo and Blaise. I doubt any of the scavengers here would get their hands on a story."

"Funny you should say that, son." His mother's voice held no humour though. Her tone was cold and clearly restrained.

Draco winced. He really did not want to be subjected to his mother losing her temper. That meant endless hours of lecturing and no hangover potion, which ultimately meant the trolls in his head would break his skull by the end of the day. Draco groaned.

"Don't you moan at me. Look at this, Draco." Narcissa whacked him over the head with a newspaper by the feel of it, only it felt like she had taken a sledgehammer to his cranium in his current state, and with a long suffering moan, Draco turned around to sit up in his lumps of many sheets and comforters.

He took the paper his mother handed him and noticed she was holding a letter in her other hand. He sighed as he wondered how much torture he would have to go through today. Firstly he inhaled deeply and opened the Daily Prophet his mother had given him. Draco's eyes scanned the article and he immediately snarled at the paper.

"There is no use in snarling at something that is your fault. I told you to wait, Draco. Just until this mess is behind us. Until your father's sentence is revisited after the next three months." Draco drowned out Narcissa's ramblings as he read the article.

While Potter and his two loyal sidekicks had given personal testimonies – and it seemed that the golden trio's word was almost law now – his mother and himself had been saved from going to Azkaban on various conditions of course. Lucius spent a minimum of six months in Azkaban for his crimes before his case was revisited was one of them. A light sentence compared to the other Death Eaters who were either dead, on the run like dogs or imprisoned for life.

Narcissa had to give large amounts of her time working as a Muggle in various Muggle charities while donating the vast amount of Malfoy gold to any cause the Ministry deemed fit, for six months to avoid all the Malfoy wealth and assets from being fully seized by the Ministry. Small change to Draco but much shame was the price of working like a common Muggle.

Draco sniffed at the thought but ran his hands through his mussed hair. The blonde strands falling back onto his face like fine silk without a holding charm to stay them. The worse of all was Draco's fate. He had been asked to sign up for the newest stupidity disguised as competence by the Ministry.

The Repentance Workshop.

Even the name was dull and daft. He was going to be assigned a fellow witch or wizard to ensure he completed a month's worth of "community service". If his fellow partner – for lack of a better word – signed his assignment chart at the end of September he would be saved from Azkaban. Needless to say, the Malfoy family had accepted the Minister's _kindness_. Although Draco knew that Potter had much say in his family and his fate, because the noble arse felt like he owed them, Draco felt uncomfortable with receiving anything from Potter, the Weasel and Granger.

The media on the other hand was not very accepting of the Malfoy's sentence. While they were told only that the Malfoy's played instrumental roles in the demise of Voldemort, Potter refused to say what exactly the family had done because he did not want to give out the details of what he and his faithful lackeys had been doing to bring down Voldemort in its entirety. Only the basics as he refused for his story to become a tale.

Draco sighed as he read the last bit of Rita Skeeter's article before flinging it across his room, throwing back the bundles of his bedding and getting out of his luxurious, four poster bed.

He reached for his mother's shoulders and stopped her pacing as her heels clicking against his marble floors hurt his head more. "It's alright mother, people aren't going to change Kingsley's mind."

Narcissa shook of her son's hold and glared at him. "Not for our initial sentence, no. But I keep telling you that this reflects badly on your father, what – "

"It is _because_ of father that we are in this position." Draco snapped as he felt his temper flare. He was still conflicted about his feelings towards his father and preferred not to dwell on. For now at least.

"He is still your father, Draco." Draco heard the tremble in his mother's voice and sighed. She was not far from tears of late and while he could be a complete arse to humans in general, even his father now, his mother was never one he could be harsh to or angry at for very long.

"I'll stop the partying for a while then." Draco tired to appease his mother.

She nodded with a small watery smile and he made to excuse himself quickly so he didn't have to see his mother not composed when she spoke again. "I doubt you'll have much time to do so anyway, Draco. Tomorrow is the first of September and your first day of the Repentance Workshop begins." Draco turned around again, aghast at that bit of information. "This will help your public image much."

Draco groaned as he took the letter his mother offered him and opened it carefully. His eyes widened as he read the letter before it slipped form his fingers and he sat down on a comfy chaise nearby, one that his father had imported for him from Persia, his knees weak as he felt the distinct urge to vomit rise bitterly up his oesophagus.

He watched as his mother bent to pick up the letter. He gave her a few seconds to read the parchment before he looked up at her. She had an unreadable expression on her face and Draco wondered if they could still buy their way out of this. At least to change his partner, if nothing else.

"You are going to go through with the programme, aren't you Draco?" Narcissa asked and her bottom lip trembled vulnerably again.

Draco sighed as he ran his hands down his face. If not for his father then definitely for his mother's peace of mind. "I don't see another way out."

He expected to see disgust at being associated with a family his parents loathed from long before the war, or even pity for his position. Instead his mother stood taller, her shoulders held highly again and a familiar gleam in her eyes.

Had he just been played?

"Wonderful, the Weasleys are basically running the Ministry nowadays. Having a Weasley as your assessor could even sway the opinion of the public."

Draco groaned and resisted the urge to plant his fist into something as he let his heavy, pounding head fall in his hands. His mother looked as if she was planning a massive ball and he was stuck with the littlest Weasley for an entire month. He could already smell the scent of vengeance surrounding him.

Only he knew, that it was _he_ who was going to be the one paying up …

* * *

"This is simply insane. I'm sorry Minister but I refuse to help him. He can be thrown into Azkaban for all I care." Ginny ranted as she sat forward in the hard chair in Kingsley's office.

Had it not been for the relationship her family had with Kinglesy before he became Minister of Magic then she doubted she would even have gotten an appointment with him. However, long gone were the days that the Weasley's were unrecognisable, poor blood traitors who people – like the Malfoys – looked down their snotty noses at. Now they were war heroes. Ginny mentally scoffed at that. She did not think that doing right should be glorified. It was something she had learned from Harry. You did well because it was the right thing to do.

She didn't care how rich or acknowledged someone was. If he or she was an evil prat then they were snot beneath her cheap, scuffed pumps. Ginny Weasley always did what was right. Well not always but at least she was not evil.

"Ginny." Kingsley spoke with much patience and Ginny felt slightly abashed. The new Minster had much to do and listening to her petty griping about something she had volunteered for in the first place, did not rank high on his agenda she was sure. Also she did not want it to seem like he was favouring anyone here but she needed his help.

"Yes Minister?" Ginny queried sweetly but Kingsley knew her well enough to humour her faux innocence.

"Do you know why I chose you for young Mr Malfoy, Ginny?"

"Honestly Minister I think with all the stress you have been going through of late, you wanted to get a good laugh at my reaction. That, or no one else wanted his case." Ginny said impassively and Kingsley's lips involuntarily twitched.

"No, Ginny. I chose you because I thought that of all the people to be a deciding factor on Mr Malfoy's sentence a Weasley having power over him with humble the young wizard into proving himself." Ginny scoffed as she doubted a Malfoy could ever be humbled but allowed Kingsley to continue. "I also did it because I thought if anyone, a _Weasel_ deserved to be the one to see a little Malfoy humiliation."

At the twinkle in Kingsley's eyes Ginny raised a neatly shaped auburn eyebrow at this. She could not deny that the idea was starting to hold some appeal to her. "Go on, Minster." Ginny said sweetly and Kingsley smiled this time.

"As Ron's busy on Auror training." Ginny refused to feel bitter about this as wherever Harry was, Ron went along. Ever the faithful sidekick. "I thought who better than you to take over something that you were so excited in doing in the first place. I never thought you'd willingly give up or back down on a challenge, Ginny. I expected you to be a lot braver than this."

Ginny new she was being played, the Minister was using mind games really, but damn it Kingsley was good at it. She could see now why he was voted into being temporary Minister and she had no doubt it would become permanent too. And he was right. Evil schemes were already being concocted in her mind for vile punishments for Draco Malfoy. She was going to make him suffer. Oh, how she was going to enjoy this.

Ginny stood up serenely and extended a tiny hand for the Minister. "I appreciate the time and confidence, Minster. I won't let you down." With a mischievous grin Ginny made to leave.

"I know you won't." Kingley gave her a conspirational smile and she headed out the Ministry. She would go visit her father first before she left.

* * *

Ginny found him at the bar in Enchanted. He was surrounded by a group of giggling witches in robes of various bright pinks. There was so much pink that Ginny wondered whether they had just come from attending a "snag the best wizard" meeting. There must be a club, all that girly vibes made Ginny feel queasy.

She sat at a table in the corner watching as Draco Malfoy ordered another drink and leaned in low to whisper something into the ear of a dark haired witch near him. The girl simpered and giggled and Ginny's lips curled up in disgust. Did they really think that all that blonde hair and sharp features was good looking?

Granted Malfoy was a handsome wizard. His aristocratic face regal and handsome, his tall body toned and lithe and Ginny couldn't deny that when he wasn't sneering or scowling – as she usually saw him doing – his face looked different. A confident smirk tugging at one corner of his lips accentuated his features. The way a lock of blonde hair fell on his face made him look boyish but Ginny still did not see the appeal.

Maybe it was because she liked her wizards with dark hair and lively, warm eyes. Not cold, steel grey that was too icy and fathomless to feel comfortable with.

However there was something different about Malfoy. Ginny was not sure if it was the way his usually immaculate dark robes looked slightly rumpled or his hands ran thorough his longer, not slicked back hair now and then or the fact that he was drinking continuously as she knew he could no longer hold his air of superiority, but something about him had changed.

His father was facing trial again soon and his mother and him, having only been exonerated with conditions could not be an easy life for a Malfoy. It was difficult to buy your way out of situations when no one wanted your gold any longer. Respect from silly, giggling girls was nothing compared to people who really mattered. He looked somewhat defeated and resigned. Ginny chastised herself. She would _not_ feel even pity for a Malfoy. She refused to. He didn't deserve it.

Making up her mind Ginny downed the last of her butter beer and stood up. She tried to make her way pass the girls clustered around him as if he were a celebrity but failed to reach him.

"Oh Draco, tell them that story about how You-Know-Who tortured you." Ginny heard one witch prattle on sympathetically.

"Yes Draco, you must tell them how brave you were to fight for the good while playing on the bad side. If You-Know-Who had found out …." The girl shuddered with an annoying simper as the girls around her clucked sympathetically.

"Oh, you brave man."

Ginny felt her breakfast rise to her throat as she listened to the hogwash these brainless chits were spurning. Did they really believe that? _She_ could not believe that Draco Malfoy was playing the double agent in the aftermath of the war. He hadn't been so sure when he was crying in a girl's lavatory and trying to kill Dumbledore. Almost killing so many as he went along. Including her brother. That was why all these witches were surrounding him? It was despicable and spurred Ginny's self righteous anger on all the more.

Ginny tried to make her way through again but was shoved aside by a stupid witch with bright red lips and brown hair. Ginny was certain she knew the girl. The witch looked down her slender nose at Ginny before nudging her out the way completely.

Ginny stumbled slightly before grabbing at the bar in Enchanted. Talking in a deep breath and reigning in her fiery temper Ginny lifted her head stubbornly. Then she hitched up the Muggle skirt she was wearing so her long legs were on show, thankful that even though she was petite her legs were shapely and attractive. Opening a button on her shirt she stuck out her chest and fluffed her hair out around her shoulders. She had not been above using her looks to get what she wanted before and while she preferred not to, wizards as pathetic as Draco Malfoy required nothing but airheads. And she would make him pay for it later on.

Ginny forcefully shoved through the witches on either side of her, all capable of nothing but simply staring at her in annoyance, while knowing that what she was wearing would attract any man's attention.

She then walked straight towards Malfoy, ignoring his narrowed eyes roving over her every inch of bared skin before settling questioningly on her face. She could see the immediate scowl and natural insult ready to form on his lips when he looked past her body and recognised her face. Or hair maybe. Quickly, not being wanted to be pushed aside by that sea of pink tarts again Ginny leaned into Malfoy.

Her full breasts pressed into his hard chest and his eyes were too busy ogling her cleavage to push her way. Yes, he may have been a haughty, prejudiced pure blood but he was still a man.

Lifting her face to his Ginny pressed her cheek against Malfoy's on the pretext of kissing him in greeting while she was really whispering against the shell of his ear. All the while grateful she had managed to bamboozle him in to not pushing her aside and claiming disgust from being near a poor, blood traitor.

"Be a good boy and get rid of the slags, Malfoy and say a proper hello to your Repentance Workshop Assessor."


	2. Chapter 2

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

* * *

_**Chapter Two**_

**SHE** agitatedly tapped the parchment on her lap with the end of her quill in undisguised irritation. Where the hell was he?

Ginny inconspicuously looked at the dainty gold watch she had received when she had come of age only last month, and she sucked on her upper teeth. Almost seven minutes late. Was he coming in at all? She could not believe that Malfoy had the audacity to pull something like this at their first briefing for the Repentance Workshop.

Ginny was trying to concentrate on Hermione's slightly nervous tone without meeting the eyes of anyone else. She knew she was receiving many pitying glances from other assessors, all of whom she knew and had went to school with. All sympathetic to the fact that she had been landed with the notorious Draco Malfoy.

Then there were the snobbish looks from witches like Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass who seemed to wonder why the hell she had gotten Draco Malfoy in the first place, no doubt having already heard the rumours of her first encounter with Malfoy. After all, Daphne's younger sister had been one of the witches present around Malfoy at Enchanted yesterday. She knew that look, it reminded her of the evil glares Romilda Vane and all the other twits had given her at Hogwarts when Harry had kissed her in her fifth year.

Ginny gave a twisted grin as she drew a distorted head on one corner of her parchment which she was pretending to be scribbling notes upon. There was no point for notes, Ginny had her schedule with her and she already had all her activities for Malfoy sanctioned by the Ministry. The meeting today was to ensure everyone knew how serious the Repentance Workshop was – hence having it at the Ministry of Magic in London – and for Hermione to satisfy her need for perfection and following the rules.

Therefore Ginny continued her artistry. She added a huge mole on a pointy nose and then drew a few strands of hair on an egg shaped head, as if the wizard in her drawing was going bald, before she put a little tag beneath it that said _"Malfoy"_. Then she started to draw a little axe next to the head of Malfoy. She discreetly took out her wand and tapped it at the drawing.

She felt immensely pleased with herself when the axe started to move in a dangerous swing towards the drawing's head and her thumb sized Malfoy showed a very unpleasant face of fear at her. So lost in her doodling Ginny was that she had not realised that the room had gone eerily quite.

Ginny looked up just in time to see Malfoy strutting towards her, not an air of his lateness in his being, looking utterly non-apologetic and Ginny's cheeks reddened because his tardiness reflected badly on her. Hermione choked on her words mid sentence but Draco just sauntered towards Ginny and sat down regally on the empty chair next to her.

Then he gave Hermione a "well don't stop on my account" look, as if she had been waiting for his permission to speak again and Hermione's cheeks also reddened before she coughed, cleared her throat and continued. Ginny did not bother to concentrate on the reasons for why this project was so important, the rules and regulations of certain acts or the possible outcomes of the Repentance Workshop; blah, blah, blah because her ears were too busy being clogged with angry steam.

"You're late." Ginny whispered as she leaned unobtrusively into Draco so no one else would hear them, thankful their wooden chairs had no armrests on them.

"Am I?" He actually sounded surprised and Ginny felt her ire rise. "No one else here seems to mind." He shrugged and it felt like fuel to Ginny's anger. She was positive she was sparking like some short circuited Muggle plug her father liked to play with but exploded because he used too much of magic on it.

Then Draco reached out and slung his arm over her shoulder. Ginny immediately stiffened as Hermione choked over her words again. Ginny could feel every eye in the little room at the Ministry focused on them.

Her cheeks were definitely the colour of her hair now and she wanted so badly to hex Malfoy until he was crying like a little girl for his mother. Thankfully Hermione continued, trying to refocus everyone's attention on herself. Ginny looked up to see people staring at Draco and herself out of the corner of their eyes now. Ginny would have rolled her own eyes if she hadn't been so angry.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" Ginny hissed through gritted teeth.

"Why I'm simply playing along, _darling_. You wouldn't want all these lovely people here to think that you're a liar now would you? After all, how could you possibly have been given consent to be an assessor if you can't speak the truth?"

Ginny groaned and sank lower into her chair. Malfoy sounded far too pleased with himself and she could tell he was enjoying her very public humiliation. He squeezed her shoulder as he drew her closer into his side and Ginny wished that there were armrests on their chairs now. Using his other hand he reached for the piece of parchment on her lap that she had been writing on. It read: "Ways to Kill Malfoy" and continued for at least ten points on painful and violent ways of how she wanted to slaughter him.

"Give that back." Ginny hissed and tried to take her scroll back from him but he held it out of her reach.

"How … _creative, my dove_." He said mockingly although Ginny could tell he was highly amused by her antics.

"Don't call me that." She took in a deep breath while trying to reign in her fast flying temper.

"Why not?" Draco asked and she turned around to glare at him.

He was looking straight at her and with his arm around her they were so very close to one another, their noses were almost touching. Close enough to see a sparkle of humour in his steel coloured eyes that made them look slightly lighter than usual. Near enough to inhale his expensive cologne that surprisingly didn't smell like anything that clogged her nasal passage and stuck in her throat, making her want to throw up.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Ginny whispered.

"Thoroughly." He agreed unabashedly and Ginny nodded, realising that riling her up was giving him great pleasure. Then she took in a calm breath and mentally agreed that she should not give him the satisfaction of getting under her skin. "Now, I don't think the public will take too kindly to reading this list though. They might think you're simply allowing me to court you because of my wealth."

"What wealth?" Ginny asked smugly. "You do remember that it hasn't been decided on whether or not your family will receive everything back?"

"Ah, and that's why you influenced your close family friends to allow me a chance to _redeem_ myself." Draco looked back at her, equally smug.

Ginny scoffed but she knew he was right. Rita Skeeter and other floozy reporters alike would love nothing better than a juicy story to drag the Weasley name into the mud now that they were prominently rising up in the ranks of society, especially with their connection To Harry. Ginny regretted lying yesterday at Enchanted when she had told all those witches she was Draco Malfoy's girlfriend.

Only it had seemed like a brilliant plan at the time. She thought that at least she could deter some of the girls in trying to pursue Malfoy, which meant he would have more time to put into his tasks instead of hunting anything that smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. It would also break Malfoy away from his personal life to remind him what he would be missing out on if he didn't pass her tests and was sent to Azkaban. That way he would take the workshop more seriously. Ginny was also honest enough with herself to admit that she had wanted him to learn how much power she had over him now. It had seemed like a great decision at the time however she had not weighed all the pros and cons up in that split second it had taken her to come up with that plan.

It was one of those "Ginny things" as her brothers called it, the impulsive decision she just leaped into head first and was now struggling to breathe under the weight of the situation, like sinking feet up into an ocean. One month Ginny reminded herself, just one month.

And soon she would have Malfoy right where she wanted him, having him do things that she couldn't wait to make him do. And the best part of it all was that he did not even have a choice in the matter. It was brilliant. She could do it.

"Err – Ginny?" Someone cleared their throat next to her and Ginny blinked, bringing into focus those same grey eyes she had been staring into while she had revelled in her wicked plans of retribution.

Malfoy smirked at her and Ginny narrowed her eyes at him with a look that hopefully said "we're not done here" and turned to look up. Hermione stood above Ginny with a frown on her face. Apparently the meeting was over and people were already milling about all around them. Some standing around and waiting to converse with others they knew while others left hurriedly.

"Granger." Draco nodded stiffly and Ginny could tell that there was too much animosity there to ever expect more between them. Then he turned towards Ginny and she lifted an eyebrow at him. "I'll be talking to Nott and Goyle while you finish up here." He said it like a demand and not really as if she was the one who wanted to talk to Hermione. Ginny felt the urge to stomp her foot down like a petulant child and lash out at him, instead she just nodded.

"Darling." He added and Ginny glared at him. He had done that on purpose and she could feel Hermione's eyes boring into her. His smirk – the one Ginny was fast coming to loathe – clearly said, "Have fun explaining your way out of that one, _darling_."

Then he lifted his hand and ran the back of his fingers down her arm. It was almost like a brand, a possessive Malfoy touch as if to show ownership and Ginny looked at her arm, almost expecting to see a Malfoy insignia or something appear there. Nothing did however and she exhaled a breath she had no idea she had been holding.

"What the hell is going on here?" Hermione demanded, sounding more bewildered than upset.

Ginny took that as a very good sign and shook herself from her reverie. Although at the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder how difficult it would be to convince the rest of her family of her reasons. She grabbed Hermione's arm and casually drew her friend away from prying eyes and the eavesdropping ears of other witches and wizards all around them.

"I lied about being Malfoy's girlfriend because it made sense at the time." Ginny said simply.

Hermione frowned so deeply Ginny wondered if her forehead would ever return to its normal flawlessness. "What time, Ginny? And when would a Weasley claiming to be the girlfriend of the charged-Death Eater-cant-keep-one-witch-at-a-time-pale-faced-ferret ever make sense?"

Ginny just tilted her head to the side as she looked at Hermione. She had always wondered how the other witch managed to spew out such tripe – err insight in one breath without turning blue in the face. Ginny closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Hermione, I suspect that Malfoy is going to give me a bloody hard time for the things I have planned on him doing. I didn't want the added bonus of him going off on his regular sprees with witches every night and showing up late, or worse hung-over, the next day and unable to do what he needs to do in order to pass his assignments."

It was the truth and if it did help to make Malfoy's life a little more difficult then that was just an added bonus for her. Ginny felt deep down that he deserved to rot in Azkaban for all that he had done. Just because his mother and he had made one decision – given it had been a major decision that could have sent the outcome of the war in Voldemort's favour – did not change the years of bad things he had done in her eyes. She wanted to see him punished but she knew she had to be objective about his case as well.

While Kingsley had thought that she, more than anyone, deserved to play with Malfoy before she saved or damned him, she knew that the latter was not the aim of the Repentance Workshop. That however did not mean that she was not going to make Malfoy's life for the next thirty days a living nightmare – he deserved to pay after all. And if he managed to survive her then only would he be worthy to be given a chance to start anew. Because he was alive and people who deserved more, were dead. Ginny inhaled deeply not wanting to focus on bitter thoughts.

"Do you even want him to be redeemed?" Hermione asked astutely.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Hermione. Just as we both know that in the end there is a fine line between bad and evil, which is why you came up with this brilliant idea in the first place. So at the end of the day, this is a fair chance to give them what they deserve, on both ends, don't you think?"

Ginny watched Hermione mull her words over before the brunette spoke again. "What does Harry think about this?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hermione, I'm seventeen not twelve. Honestly though, I think he would approve. This is a great way to stick it to Malfoy within good reason but still see if he's worthy to be given a second chance. Tell me I'm wrong."

"I can't. You're right." Hermione sighed. "And if it wasn't for Auror training I have no doubt Ron would have been jumping over fully grown trolls for this chance." She admitted. "And if that were the case them I might have actually pitied Malfoy for once." Hermione said with a fond smile for Ron.

Ginny nodded with a small grin of her own. "Ron deserves it much more than I do. I personally wish I had this opportunity with Malfoy Senior but the son will have to do." Ginny smiled wickedly and Hermione lifted her eyes heavenward.

"Yes, well just be careful alright. I still don't trust him and I wouldn't want him to start thinking that he could play games would you too."

Ginny nodded and gave Hermione a quick hug, promising not to go overboard with her plans for Draco Malfoy. "Don't worry, Hermione, I can handle Draco Malfoy."

* * *

"Are you still planning on how best to carry out that list of yours?" Draco whispered close to Weasley's ear and he watched her small shoulders stiffen.

Pleased with himself he sat down opposite of her and placed a goblet of butterbear before her. He saw surprise flicker in her bright brown eyes while he sipped his own drink and she lifted one eyebrow at him, her quill poised over her parchment. Did she think he was a complete Neanderthal?

"Have you poisoned it?" She motioned her head towards the butterbear.

"You'll have to try it for yourself and see." He smirked at her even though he felt a tinge of irritation at her comment, more so when she pushed the goblet away with the back of her hand. "Oh really, Weasley? It was a peace offering alright. If we're going to be working together we might as well try and be civil to each other."

Draco watched as she stopped writing, contemplating something before she finally looked up at him. Her eyes were full of suspicion and not an ounce of trust in it. He understood really, she shouldn't trust him. She had no reason to after all that he had said and done. If he hadn't done all of those things then he definitely wouldn't be in the position he was in now. Like some common louse, subjected to being assessed for good behaviour by someone younger than him. It made him sound so pathetic.

He was unhappy about getting landed with the little Weasel but he didn't believe for a second that it was a coincidence. He knew how well the Weasley's were connected to Shaklebolt, old Order members who had fought side by side in the war. However Draco had just learned how to appreciate what he had because the more he thought about it the more he realised how much more badly it could have been.

He could have ended up with Ron Weasley and Draco could only guess at how much that pasty oaf would have loved to humiliate him. While he was not underestimating the girl Weasley's contempt for and prowess to punish him – as he knew she was more skilled and powerful than her brother was – he assumed he had done little to no damage to her personally in Hogwarts and that whatever grievances she had towards him were based by association and on principle alone.

Therefore she was more susceptible to feeling empathy for him, coupled with the fact that she was a witch – warm and fuzzy was part of her genetical design – he was more likely to get away easier with her than with any other of those idiots he had seen at that meeting today.

That was his strategy. After speaking to his mother about this and telling her exactly how Weasley had found him – alright so it was more griping and cursing that involved "the blasted woman" and "the audacity of the silly witch" or "how dare she" – his mother's strategy was to genuinely pursue a relationship with Weasley. That had been enough to immediately sober Draco's anger up.

"_Oh not anything permanent, Draco. Just for a couple of months maybe, a year at most, until all this hubbub dies down. You can be very charming when you want to be, son and she will be hard pressed not to deem you worthy of a second chance. It will be so good for your social status as well and in turn reflect well on your parents. She could get you invited … "_

Draco had tuned out his mother by then but her ramblings had only continued and with it her excitement. Draco looked over at Weasley. She was very pretty, anyone could see that. She was attractive and confident in her own skin but she was so … so forceful. He enjoyed confident women but Ginny Weasley was a bit _too_ strong for his liking.

She cussed and grit her teeth and bristled and he had no intention of pursuing cacti when anyone who knew him would immediately see that she was not his type. Besides being a Malfoy and a Weasley, they simply grated on each others nerves when together.

He didn't have a doubt in his mind that the public would think he was in a relationship with Weasley now because of whom she was and more importantly who she was connected to and that was all that mattered. Everyone thought he was an opportunist, just like his dear ol' dad and Draco had no issues with that general consensus. He was who he was after all, and there were worst things that he had been referred to as of late.

He didn't need to genuinely start a relationship for society now. After today the wizarding community would swallow the hogwash whole. A touch here, a whisper there, that was manageable, pretending was one thing, actually participating in such affairs for the benefit of others was beneath him. He could not imagine spending any more time with Weasley than was necessary.

Going to events with her, enduring her presence for long periods of time while pretending he actually enjoyed it, acting as if he liked the company she kept … kissing her. That was just something that Draco had no intention of doing. Although he did enjoy watching Weasley squirm like she had at their meeting today. She despised him and enjoyed – not – pretending to be his girlfriend just as much as he did, if not more so.

He knew she thought by lying yesterday that she had an upper hand on him and stood to make his life more difficult by cutting of his social life and … _recreational_ activities but Draco had realised that while he was keeping everyone happy in his life – which was a mission nowadays – he was also in a position to get back just a little bit at Weasley for whatever torment she was going to put him through.

Draco internally sighed. All he had to do was keep telling himself that it was either that or Azkaban. In the end he really didn't have a choice. While a year ago he might have been angry about his situation or demanded his father fix this he reminded himself that it _was_ his father who had brought this upon him and the family. It was _because_ of his father that he was were he was today and in reality Draco was tired.

He was tired of fighting when he was so clearly on the wrong side, he was tired of holding onto the old prejudices that landed his father and him in such a dastardly position and he was ready to let go. Draco wouldn't deny that he still held himself in the highest regard, no matter what others thought about him now, but that was something that didn't make him want to pledge his allegiance to a murderer again.

"Let's get one thing straight here, Malfoy …" He realised Weasley was speaking to him and Draco blinked to focus on her and concentrate on her words. "You work _for_ me. We do not work together."

Her words did not sit well with him but he was in no place to argue so he simply offered her a sneer he reserved specifically for vermin. She however was not intimidated by him in the least. She snorted before gathering up her quills, ink and parchment.

Then she bent down to scribble something on a piece of parchment and unintentionally exposed the tops of her creamy cleavage to his view. Draco immediately looked away to the locks of fiery red hair falling around her face, her expression annoyed. Then she slid it towards him with her slender fingers and unkempt nails, which showed she did much work with her hands.

"Come to this place at seven tomorrow morning sharp. If you're late, Malfoy, I promise I will intensify your first trial." She said warningly but Draco looked blankly back at her. He refused to let her daunt him.

She narrowed her eyes at him, a glassy brown gaze that glowed amber-ish when she was determined or angry. Then she removed her hand from the address and turned to walk away from him, full hips swaying slightly. Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before he picked up the piece of parchment from the table.

Tomorrow it would begin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

**DRACO** looked around the tiny village he had landed in with something close to fear. It wasn't the type of panic that made you scared of being attacked or unwelcomed – because the market place just around the corner he stood at looked packed with common Muggles – but a sense of dread on what was to come, because he knew whatever it was, it would most certainly be demeaning for him.

He didn't have a clue as to what Weasley had planned for his first task and Draco honestly wished he didn't need to find out. He stood up straighter and adjusted the front of his dark robes. He knew his hair was slightly out of place that morning but he couldn't quite help it.

Draco hadn't had much sleep at all the night before, because every time he closed his eyes he was haunted with degrading sights that he prayed he never had to live a day of. Naturally that meant when he finally did manage to fall asleep – he had over slept.

This was worse than anyone could imagine because he had been awoken by his mother. His mother, who had insistently tried to dress him up, picking out everything for him, including his underwear. She hadn't laid out that particular article of clothing for Draco since he had been five years old. Being as nervous as he was hadn't helped at all and since she was still learning how to cook without the assistance of any house elves, their own meals – charred bacon and mushy eggs with a side of rock hard toast – had felt like lead settling into his stomach for the day. Needless to say, he was already miserable.

"Gods, that was awful." Draco muttered.

"Awful is you, dressed in formal robes in the middle of a Muggle town." Draco turned around like a brandished whip and he was startled to see Weasley standing against a tree behind him, watching him intently.

Draco felt his cheeks pinken for the second time that morning and he didn't like it at all. He was definitely going to have to buy a few extra bottles of Firewhisky during the next thirty days – for every night after dealing with his mother and Weasley in tandem.

"How long have you been standing there?" Draco felt the need to ask.

"Long enough, idiot." Draco was about to snarl at her for her candid choice of words but he wasn't given the chance.

Weasley briskly stepped towards him and put her hand on his. The action startled Draco so much that he immediately reared back. Draco could swear her touch felt like a hot iron against his skin. Her grip was surprisingly firm and strong. Yet her fingers were slender and soft around his arm. Although he could feel the slight press of calluses at the top of her palm that made her seem all the more contradicting with her strong nature, packaged in her tiny frame. Draco felt the strangest urge to shake off her hold on him. He wondered why he was being so attentive to a simple thing like a hand on his arm, but he realised he was just one for details, was all.

Draco felt the familiar sensation of being sucked through a tube, only it felt ten times worse because he hadn't been the one doing the apparating. He stumbled forward slightly the moment his feet touched solid ground, his tall back hunching forward as he rectified his position, only to find Weasley standing steadily before him and looking him over. That really annoyed him.

"Next time, don't just grab onto me without a little warning first. I could have moved and gotten myself splinched." He reprimanded her with an angry sneer. She was no doubt the most frustrating witch he had ever met before.

"Any part of your self important, vain being that you lost would be an improvement, Malfoy. Believe me."

"And all of you being lost would be a miracle." Draco glowered, baring his perfectly white teeth down at her in an intimidating snarl, but she was biting her lower lip and staring at him with such a contemplative look that Draco felt – and he would never, ever admit this aloud – uncomfortable under her heavy scrutiny.

So he looked around his surroundings, more to avoid her keen gaze than from any interest on sightseeing. Draco's eyes widened. He took in the yellow hills, the smell of country air and the tall crooked building with something worse than fear. He turned wide grey eyes on Weasley.

"You brought me to your home?" He queried with shock.

That's when her lips curved into a smile. A full blown smile that broke her whole face into a very pretty picture. Excitement and mischief danced in her bright brown eyes, making them sparkle and the tiny freckles dotting her cheeks seem more pronounced. Draco would have called her enticing then, if she hadn't been plotting his own downfall. So he scowled at her instead.

"I thought it would be a wonderful place to start. I remember how you always pitied us for being poor, so I decided what a better way to show how _good_ _you_ are by helping us underprivileged people." She said the words good and you as if they didn't gel together. Draco would be the first to admit that they most probably never would either.

Draco looked at her in utter disbelief. He felt himself break out in a cold sweat and he realised that wearing formal robes hadn't been such a great idea at all. It seemed like Weasley could see straight through him and her smile didn't waver for a moment, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

Then she trudged up the hill and Draco knew he had no choice but to follow. Her hips swayed like the corn fields in the wind, fluidly and gracefully. Yet in her faded Muggle jeans that clung to her well rounded derrière and the simple knitted jersey she wore, he could tell that she was completely comfortable in her own skin.

That made Draco feel all the more uncomfortable and agitated in his own clothing. He had never felt that way before, not in a five hundred galleon hand made robe, woven from the finest of silk in the world and he realised then how low he had sunk. How much the world he had known had crumbled all around him and Draco could never climb up again with his old thoughts at hand.

Potter had started a revolution that was completely opposite to what the Dark Lord had tried to accomplish and while Draco had been quickly disillusioned by what being a Death Eater had entailed, he wasn't as prepared for what it meant to be apart of the other side as well.

He was struggling, drowning and he couldn't see a way out but to accept what he was given for now. Yet a part of him wanted to simply just lie down and give up. He wanted to die in his silk robes with the comfort of the only things that he had ever known, than to actually move forward and face what was to come. Because if Draco was honest with himself, he was beyond afraid of this new world he felt like he had no part in.

He was petrified that he didn't have the strength to win. He was terrified that maybe this would prove as all the other times had proved. That Draco was weak. That even though he always preferred to sit on the fence and simply lean on one side when it suited him, because no one liked to feel superior more than him, he didn't have the comfort of that luxury now.

There was no way Draco was feeling superior any longer and it scared him. It was easier to pretend that he was still in control of his own life sometimes, than to actually try to be now.

When they reached the top of the hill Draco almost expected a bunch of red heads to be waiting outside for him with clubs and pitchforks in hand. However, only the warm breeze and the scents of food and fruit greeted him. The walk to the top had done him some good. He always liked to run or set sail when he needed his mind cleared, as it normally sent some oxygen to his brain. He was glad that Weasley hadn't spoken to him on the trek up or he would have definitely pissed her off by not paying attention to her.

Then again, she didn't strike him as needy or striving for attention. Draco looked at her and it was difficult waiting for her instructions when he was the one used to giving it instead. So he bit his tongue and stared with expert nonchalance at Weasley.

A slight breeze blew tendrils of thick red hair across her face and she pulled them down with her nimble fingers. The sun above them shone on her fiery head so he could make out shades of gold in her tresses. She looked like she was an angel with a halo over her head, then she smiled and Draco repressed the urge to shiver.

That smile was almost demonic. He could see the punishment awaiting him behind the falsity of her lush lips and he realised that even though she had a halo over her head she must have had a tail waving around in anticipation behind her.

"This way." She told him and she led him behind the tall building that he knew was her home. He didn't like the rubber boots lined outside with the broken cauldrons standing by the door side; Draco especially didn't like the snorting of pigs he heard near him or the cackling of chicken running around.

They walked behind the tall tower and Draco looked back just to make certain that the building wouldn't come crashing down on him or that a horde of angry Weasleys weren't running after him when his back was turned. He inwardly grimaced at his line of thinking but for the life of him he couldn't help himself.

When he looked in front again he noticed that Weasley had stopped walking and was waiting for him near a huge, muddy and fly surrounded pigsty. Draco's mind immediately started to conjure images even more terrible than his most gruesome nightmares had been last night. He gulped but his tongue felt thick and parched and he was afraid if he opened his mouth he would sound like a frog croaking.

So Draco decided to keep silent and await Weasley's instructions. He didn't have to wait long because there was fire in her eyes, burning with anticipation and his stomach churned. His chest ached and he thought he was going to be sick.

"Your first task is to live like the poor, as you used to express such … _interest_ in the other half before. You will be given duties during the course of the week that you must do without magic."

Draco could already feel his burned breakfast trying to make an appearance and he wanted to run as far away as he could from the tiny demon before him. "And what, pray tell is my first order of duty?" He was surprised that he could hold even a modicum of calmness in his stance and inject his voice with such strength that his words didn't waver.

At least all his social instructions were holding him well. But his learning had also said things along the lines of never lower yourself to someone who you are superior to and always hold yourself in the regard you want people to respect you in. He didn't feel very rich and superior in that moment.

"Your first task is to clean this pigsty. We'll move on afterwards." Weasley told him in a sickly sweet way that immediately made him want to hunch over and hurl.

He had asked because he had hoped with all his heart, for the sake of his sanity really, that his first task would have nothing to do with the disgusting pigpen before him.

"No." Draco said simply.

After all, how could he lower himself to cleaning a pigsty? With nothing but his bare hands, no magic allowed. It was cruel and twisted and he could not believe the Ministry with sanction such a filthy and degrading task to a Malfoy heir.

If he expected Weasley to be surprised or even upset by his declination, he was disappointed. On the contrary she looked more pleased by his response than anything else.

She took a step towards him and nodded solemnly before she looked up at him. She was short, probably only reaching his chest but when she raised those fierce brown eyes at him, Draco felt slightly smaller, unimportant, and dirty.

"So you refuse to do this task then?" She asked calmly, too calmly for Draco's liking. At his stubborn nod of agreement she also bobbed her head, then she said, "Go then."

Draco's legs made to move. After all this was what he had wanted, to flee and never return. He didn't care if he didn't receive the rest of his gold or was sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban any longer. Nothing was worth playing around in pig muck all day. Draco would simply go to another country, far, far away from England. There he could solve Muggle problems with magic and earn money for himself. Draco would be a fugitive, a convict and he would never be able to return home again. He also would most likely never see his mother again and would have to leave her to fend for herself during one of their toughest times yet.

Draco would always have to change locations, he could never settle down in one place and he would have to change himself too. New name, new look. Live as someone else for a while, probably even as a Muggle for some time. Draco winced. He didn't want to be someone else. Then again, at that point in time, he really didn't want to be himself either.

"Wait, what?" Draco frowned down at Weasley.

"You heard me." She said simply. "Leave. Isn't that what you want?" Her voice was condescending and mocking but Draco couldn't believe she was telling him he could leave. "This is what you're best for doing right? Stirring up trouble, making sure you stick your pointed nose where it doesn't belong and then fleeing. You're weak."

Her words were like ice flooding through his veins. Every insult making him immobile and paralysing him with something that he couldn't even explain. She spoke nothing but the truth, all the things she had said to him were everything Draco had only moments ago said to himself, but she made it sound so much worse. Like a crime, punishable by death and he knew then that _that_ was what she wanted.

Weasley wanted his life for the childish crimes that he had performed because he had had no choice. She wanted him to rot away in Azkaban. The red head didn't want him at this impasse in life and she certainly didn't want him on her land, outside her house or even in her pigsty. Weasley's opinion of him was beyond low and she was going to punish him for his actions, one way or another.

Draco sucked on his upper teeth to calm himself down. He wanted to be so angry at her for being assigned his case, but he knew in the end that he had brought this upon himself. He should never have picked on Ron or any of her family members all those years at Hogwarts. If he hadn't, she would most likely not be his assessor today.

He could see hate flaring in her eyes and he knew that he couldn't just walk away. The moment he did that he would immediately be sent to trial and no doubt lose the opportunity to be given a second chance. Even if Draco did serve a sentence in Azkaban, his life would never be the same again. He would miss out on years of his youth, he would end up bitter and regretful and everyone would see him as an evil git rather than a reformed, prejudiced pureblood whom had simply made some bad choices.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that the Ministry would sign off on something so inhumane?" Draco asked sceptically.

It was almost heart wrenching to see her smile at him. "I thought you might say that." She said as she immediately pulled out a scroll from her front pocket and showed it to him. Then her face turned icy, her eyes sharp and piercing. "Inhumane is trying to take someone's life, cursing and poisoning without feeling the slightest bit of – "

"You don't know what I felt." Draco snarled viciously as he stepped closer towards Weasley.

"Oh yeah, crying to a ghost over failing the tasks – "

"Shut it!" Draco snapped.

He didn't realise that he had grabbed onto Weasley's arm in his rage until she looked down pointedly. Draco felt her delicate bones beneath his large hand and he knew it would be so easy to twist and break her with his strength. Leave her feeling helpless and see how she handled herself then. Instead of fear though, Draco only saw triumph in Weasley's bold eyes and he realised that she had made her point.

Draco jerked away from her as if she had slapped him and he ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. She was playing him, Weasley was. She was smart enough to know exactly which buttons of his to push and she was bloody hell enjoying it too. Darn it, he despised her.

Desperate to look anywhere else but at Weasley, Draco browsed through the official Ministry approved list with all her activates planned out for him. Draco threw it back at her weakly and he turned around from her. He felt oddly broken and defeated. He shamefully felt the urge to cry but he held on to his anger instead. Even if he directed every ounce of his resentment at Weasley, then so be it.

* * *

Ginny waited as Malfoy ran his hand through his white blonde hair. In the sun it was like fine silk shining around him. His broad shoulders were stiff but he stood tall even in his time of desperation. Ginny wanted so badly for him to give up. It would save her the frustration from having to look at him for an entire month and make her sleep easier knowing he was locked up, far way in Azkaban. Only that meant she couldn't get to see Malfoy struggling.

Ginny thought she had had him when he had snapped at her just now, grabbing onto her hand in a stroke of violence, but what surprised her most was how he had held back. Even though she could have easily cursed him if he had tried to harm her in any way, he was still physically stronger than her. Yet Malfoy had not tried to overpower her. His eyes had not reflected true malevolence at her. Hatred: yes, anger: yes but no ill intentions. Maybe he really couldn't stomach advertently and directly hurting someone.

Then Ginny reminded herself that inadvertently hurting people was not an excuse and even if his eyes showed regret, she couldn't be sure as to what exactly he was sorry for. Hurting people or having to face the consequences for it. Therefore she stomped down harshly on any understanding her brain was unwittingly providing in Malfoy's defence.

"I thought we were going to be visiting orphanages or war relief centres or things like that." He snarled at her but Ginny simply raised an eyebrow at him.

"I didn't know you had such an interest in children, but I'll consider it." She said simply.

She waited while he looked over at the heap of mess and mud in the pigsty. He swallowed deeply and his throat moved in desperation. He then turned towards her, squaring his broad shoulders visibly and staring at her. His eyes turned icy cold, shinning like gun metal and Ginny felt the need to shiver under his gaze. When he looked down at her with all the confidence and air of superiority that had been bred into him it was so easy to feel intimidated by him again. However she refused to be cowed from her plans.

"What do I do?" He asked again with a deceivingly calm voice, his eyes never leaving hers as if silently telling her to change her mind or promising retribution for her actions if she didn't.

"Clean the entire pigsty."

Malfoy was unable to hide his initial flinch before her eyes saw it but then he nodded and the look was gone. Cold indifference was donned like a protective mask and Ginny could see him grit his teeth. Then he turned and walked away from her.

His shoulders were rigid and his walk wasn't as easy as it had been yesterday, but Ginny was surprised. Completely unsuspecting that Malfoy of all people would actually be walking towards a pigsty. His Italian shoes squelched in the mud but he paid it no heed.

With his dark robes off and folded neatly to one side, he picked up a spade in hand and began to clear up the filthy area around him. The stench bothered Ginny but she had refused to use a spell to counteract the smell because she wanted Malfoy to have mud in his perfect blonde hair, she wanted his skin to have the foul odour he accused her family of having and she wanted to watch.

Yet when he walked into the pen and worked with a calm dignity and agility, not a word muttered from his mouth, even with flies surrounding him, refusing to say anything – was what truly impressed Ginny. She had expected him to curse her, hell even threaten her, but nothing of the sort had happened. He had fussed over his task at first and she couldn't blame him because he had the right to do so, this was utterly personal, but then he had refused to give her the satisfaction of quitting and giving her what she really wanted. Draco Malfoy in Azkaban.

He decided to stand and fight and there was nothing weak about that. Ginny couldn't help but feel some empathy for him in that moment. She stood watching him but he refused to look at her. Soon the sun was nearing its highest peak and he kept working. By then he had removed his robes and rolled up the sleeves of his once pristine white shirt.

Ginny noticed that Malfoy's forearms were strong; his blue blooded veins pulsing below his pale skin with every dig and heave. His chest rippled clearly beneath the thin cotton of his expensive shirt and she idly wondered where the skinny git she loathed had gone to. Of course he had grown up. Eighteen, he was an adult … a man now. And Ginny couldn't help but think that he was definitely handling his current situation like one.

She realised that she couldn't be_ inhumane_ to him – well not all that much at least – so she quickly went inside to get a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice for him. She was glad to avoid her mother inside the house since Mrs Weasley had been very unhappy about Ginny's plans for the youngest Malfoy and had said things along the lines of "I thought I raised you better." But that was Molly Weasley.

The Weasley matriarch was unconditionally forgiving, especially to the younger, and she always wanted to see the best in people. Of course she wasn't all that pleased to know that Ginny had lied about dating Malfoy and Mrs Weasley had asked whether the workshop was making her daughter horrible as it made Malfoy better.

At the time Ginny had rolled her eyes but at the moment she was wondering if maybe there was some truth to her mother's words. Of course George had laughed at her landing Malfoy and since it was the first time George had really laughed in a long while, Ginny had thought that that alone was worth it. Her father had simply looked contemplative and had softly voiced his dislike for the Malfoys, but one of the wonderful traits of Arthur Weasley was his ability to allow his children to make their own mistakes and learn from them. Simply promising to be there for them when things didn't work out as they wished it to.

Mrs Weasley had insisted that Malfoy come in for supper but Ginny doubted that he would ever step foot inside her house. She had seen the look of utter shock and disgust when he had realised where she had apparated him to. Besides, Ginny didn't want him here either. Having Malfoy outside was bad enough, inside her house with his snotty nose and judgemental eyes was much more than Ginny could bear.

Ginny took the tray outside and was about to call for Malfoy to take a break when loud laughter rumbled from behind her. Ginny placed the tray down on the chair she had been sitting on and turned to see Harry and Ron making their way towards them. Their eyes were focused on Malfoy with glee and Ginny noticed that the blonde's cheeks were pink and he looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Then she thought of all the things he had done to her family and her resolve strengthened. Whatever he had coming, he deserved.

"Harry, tell me I'm not going blind." Ron and Harry only had eyes for Malfoy and hadn't focused on her yet. She couldn't blame them but she did feel the old tinge of annoyance at it. They were lapping up the scene that greeted them with unreserved relish.

"I wear glasses, Ron, and if you're seeing Malfoy in your back yard cleaning a pigsty then you're not going blind, mate."

Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned. Then they turned towards her. "It's good to see you boys." Ginny said sincerely, looking over them to see if their Auror training had made any difference to their outward appearance.

They weren't as scrawny as they had been and Ginny could see the changes taking shape in each wizard. A grim determination hidden in steely resolve lurked behind their good natured demeanour. Of course that could also be a result of the months they had spent on the run while chasing Horcruxes and fighting in a war. Something that had wrought drastic, unavoidable changes to them all and for the first time Ginny didn't blame her mother for wanting to shield them now.

Ron grinned at her before giving her a one armed hug. Then she turned to Harry and he pulled out something from his pocket before he approached her stiff posture. He gave her such a hopeful look with his mesmerising green eyes that she felt all the bitterness at him leaving straight after the war seep away from her.

"I missed you, Gin." He said softly and Ginny melted as she stepped forward and took the box from him. Who could ever stay angry at sweet, noble Harry Potter?

"What's in the box?"

"You're favourite chocolates of course." He said and she laughed, leaning in to him. He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek and Ginny hugged him tightly.

"I missed you too." She said softly.

At that very moment there was a loud splash of mud as a large dollop landed out the wooden pen and spattered near their feet. Ginny and Harry groused and stepped back from the offending manure.

"Hey, watch where you're shovelling that muck, Malfoy." Ron said furiously, looking down to ensure he hadn't been messed with any.

"Or we might not hire you permanently." Harry added and he and Ron laughed jovially at his joke.

Ginny felt somewhat uncomfortable as she saw Malfoy's fingers tighten around the handle of his spade. For some reason seeing Harry and Ron laughing at Malfoy wasn't easy to watch as she had expected it to be. She thought she would have felt justified, happy and would have gloated at Malfoy's expense but she felt nothing of the sort.

Especially since the boys had come over particularly for this. And Ginny couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside of her. Ron and Harry hadn't thought twice about leaving her and the family at a drop of the hat but could come back to mock Malfoy.

"Alright you two, why don't you go inside and get something to eat. Mum will be feeding you before you even sit down." Ginny suggested and was pleased to see Harry focus his attention back onto her.

"Yeah, sounds great." Harry said happily, walking past her and squeezing her shoulder affectionately, but she noticed Ron hadn't moved from his spot.

Ron waved his hand for Harry to go on without him without taking his eyes off of Malfoy. If Ginny hadn't known better she would have thought that Ron was admiring the way a sweaty and toned Malfoy looked with dirt on his sharp cheeks and his mused hair falling around his face.

Ginny had to admit that Malfoy had a handsome face, all sharp angles and planes. Combined with a spade in hand, lightly flexing muscles and beads of sweat on his face he looked like some sculpture of a fallen angel. He was strong and overbearing but chipped and cracked at the same time, making her think that one more hit could possibly break him to pieces. However the more she stared at him the more she thought she was wrong.

Malfoy was more defined than she thought, as if everything he had been through etched him with another line of characterisation that strengthened him instead of weakened him. Ginny was about to speak when Ron opened his mouth.

"I never thought I would see the day, Malfoy." Ron said in a condescending voice and Ginny couldn't believe that Malfoy remained silent.

He kept shovelling but he did look up at Ron and Ginny's eyes narrowed. His looked was completely patronising and haughty and even inside a pigsty with mud on his face he could look down his nose at Ron. Ginny marvelled at that while Ron seethed at it.

"I definitely think I'm going to take a picture of this moment." Ron's voice was thick with bitterness. "Use it to remind myself during some tough times that even though I was poorer than you were, I was still a good guy and this is where you ended up, while I'm a hero." Ginny felt her throat clog with emotion for her brother.

Ron was justified.

"You know, I actually think you would have had it easier with me. Since I think I would have just made you battle every single day of the month, to make you fear for your life every day, as I did when we were trying to defeat You-Know-Who and you were cosying up to him in your big, black mansion."

Ginny didn't actually think that was true. She had heard that Malfoy hadn't been capable of going through with some of the things that had been required of him and had been disillusioned by the lifestyle; she was inclined to believe it after today too. That was also why he was being given an opportunity to prove himself better in the fist place. There was also something haunted that passed through Malfoy's eyes at Ron's words but he looked down then and went back to his work, as if bored with her brother already. Ginny couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of admiration for how hard he must have been fighting himself to keep his mouth closed. It wasn't easy to ignore Ron, she knew. It was completely unlike Malfoy too, but then again, it was completely like him not to torment someone when he was at a disadvantage.

"Ginny really knows how to make a wizard suffer doesn't she, and you know I'm glad she was given the opportunity to do this because what she has you doing, is so much better than anything I would have ever given you."

Ginny had the grace to blush and she felt unable to meet Malfoy's eyes as he fixed her with a penetrating stare. His grey eyes stormy and piercing, accusing her as if to say "this is all your fault", and it was.

"I think about what your father did to her and what that vile witch you call your aunt did to Hermione and I think, yes they got some of what they deserved. Your dad's rotting away in Azkaban, you're here cleaning up shite and who knows, maybe your mother can be sold to someone and kept in their dungeon as a whore – "

Ginny gasped, horrified at Ron's words, then ...

_Splat!_

She was so consumed with disbelief at Ron's ugly diatribe that she could only watch helplessly as mud flew towards Ron. For a moment everything was completely still. Not even a bird chirped or the wind rustled.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" Draco hissed and his voice was deceptively calm and steady but it frightened Ginny even more.

It was a demand that Ron should not take lightly. Ron whose head was looking like a garden gnome's for being completely covered in mud.

Of course her brother was a first class idiot at times who did tend to stick his foot in his mouth, so obviously Ron roared, making to plough into Draco. Working with her quick reflexes, the ones fighting in a war had honed, Ginny immediately summoned a shield charm. She hadn't realised that even with a spade in his hand she had protected Malfoy and not Ron.

Her brother was knocked back by the shield charm and he looked over at Ginny with condemning eyes but she refused to be undermined by him. After all, Malfoy was her responsibility and that meant she was liable to protect him too. Ron had taken his ribbing too far, something she should have seen coming knowing her untactful brother. Issuing petty words at Malfoy was one thing, speaking of a mother – no matter whose – was just as disgusting as some of the things that Malfoy had said about the Weasleys, and made Ron no better.

Ginny realised then that even though they were thoroughly justified in their loathing of Malfoy, trying to extract revenge on him made them no better than Voldemort's supporters had been. Her mother was right, Kingsley's plans for the Repentance Workshop was to rebuild with good intentions. That meant letting go of the past, moving forward, definitely not holding grudges. She had thought that Harry and Ron had at least worked past that when they decided Malfoy needed another chance, but it seemed that there was still residue bitterness lingering there.

Ginny thought that Ron could be like Hermione or Harry though. Keep his anger to himself, just as Malfoy was doing. That was the mature thing to do. That was the _right_ thing to do now.

"I don't think mum would appreciate a barnyard brawl in her back yard, so I think you should go inside, Ron." Ginny said in a voice that brooked no argument. Ron eyed her wand before he nodded and walked inside. At least the war had matured Ron up enough for him to know when he was wrong now. Even if he still made the mistake first and only came to that conclusion in hindsight. Well he still had time to change more with age, Ginny thought hopefully.

"Put that spade down." She said sternly at Malfoy and he narrowed his eyes at her. Then he lowered it slowly although she noticed it was still waist high. Ginny sighed, it would have to do.

When Ron walked away Ginny waved her wand and immediately the entire pigsty and spade disappeared from around Malfoy. He leaned down, his hands on his knees and took in a large gulp of air. She felt slightly torn between hating Malfoy and actually feeling empathy for him in that moment. Then, Ginny realised that helping someone who didn't even deserve your help did not mean that you accepted what they did, it just made you a bigger and better person.

Ginny realised that being the bigger person wasn't all it was cut out to be, but doing the right thing was never easy. That was something her father had always said and so she waved her wand and Malfoy was clean again. He looked at her with surprise but she turned around and went to fetch him a goblet of juice. He narrowed his eyes at her when she was facing him again.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that." He said icily and Ginny wasn't sure how she was supposed to reply to that.

"Having a go at you, you deserved honestly." Ginny said truthfully. "Ron talking about someone who isn't here to defend themself is unfair, but degrading your mother is low and completely unacceptable."

She noticed his shoulders sag in … was that relief? As if he had been expecting another fight. Then he looked at the goblet she was still holding out to him and he took it almost hesitantly.

"Have you poisoned it?" He sounded weary but there was a hint of natural charm to his voice that Ginny doubted he realised he was using on her. However she gave him a tiny smile.

"You'll have to try it for yourself and see." She couldn't help but remind him and he gave her a small smirk in return. It was not patronising or arrogant in the least and Ginny found it rather interesting.

"I'd prefer the peace offering." He muttered but reached out for the goblet nonetheless.

His fingers warm brushed hers and Ginny was reminded that he was still a human being. Flawed and sometimes awful at being one but he wasn't a monster and she shouldn't treat him like one. He tossed back the goblet and chugged it down in one gulp. Ginny only felt all the more guilty for her actions, because it had been a hot day and he had been working continuously for the entire morning. She was a better person than a vengeful, bitter witch out for blood.

* * *

"You magicked that sty for me didn't you?" Draco asked rhetorically and Weasley nodded in shame. Yet he smirked and she frowned at him. At seeing her obvious confusion he felt more pleased over his current situation. "Not even pigs could be that filthy, unless we were talking about your brother – fine." He said after she glared reprimandingly at him. "I just hope that you don't expect to make a spectacle of me again." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"Of course not." She said and he could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I didn't know they would come all the way from their Auror training in Norway to see you being humiliated. I wasn't even the one who told them you were going to be here."

Draco flinched at her words but he was certain he heard resentment in her voice that wasn't aimed at him. He had listened in to the conversation with Potter and she was clearly upset with the four eyed saint, but for some reason that made him feel strangely pleased compared to the agitation over seeing her smooching Potter.

He knew it was only because Ron's words had struck a nerve. Great Potter and his sidekicks were legends now and Draco was reduced to levelling shite. Potter came home and grinned with his ugly glasses, bearing gifts for a pretty girl who saw passed the gold and the title, someone who wasn't shallow and he had to listen to a Weasley of all people belittle his mother.

Draco felt empty and saddened inside, not only because the day's physical work had left him exhausted. "I suspect I can leave now?"

"Yeah. Yes, you can." Weasley shook her head and he could tell she was studying him, lost in thought then. He nodded and was pleased that she had at least cleaned his clothes for him. "And Malfoy, I really am sorry about Ron … He knew what he said was inexcusable and wrong, even to you, and that's why he left ..." Her voice way soft and unsure, he could see her shifting from one foot to another and Draco wondered why she was feeling upset.

He stared at her for a long moment and he could tell that the apology had cost her some pride. While she didn't like him and wanted him to work for his second chance, he suspected that she didn't quite have the stomach to be cruel, "even to him". He knew because he had had the same look when he had spoke about death so casually but could never kill himself.

All those times he had uttered the Cruciatus Curse and couldn't make it work, when he had cried over the harm he had caused. He realised then that was not his weakness as the Dark Lord had told him. He felt for people.

Even the mudbloods and blood traitors. While he wouldn't mourn the loss of anyone he didn't care about, he didn't wish death upon any of them now because he knew what it felt like to fear for your life and those you loved day in and day out. How it ate you up inside to be forced with tasks you could not stomach because you had to protect your family. Draco couldn't live with that side of himself. He had lived with death incarnate under his roof after all. Ron didn't know the half of it.

"I expect that I won't be cleaning anymore pigsties then?" He asked with an arched eyebrow and Weasley gave him a small smile. It was gone even before he registered it but he knew she would look even lovelier when she smiled fully and confidently.

"No. We'll deal with those orphans and relief centres after you de-gnome my garden, feed the chicken and fix the broom shed we have here."

Draco looked appalled at her words but he wasn't certain if she was joking or serious. Although he was starting to actually think more of the little Weasley than he ever had of her kind. More so than he normally gave a female. She had been cunning today, with a scheme that could have made the staunchest of Slytherins proud. That however was not really what had earned her his respect.

In the end she had known that what she had been doing was wrong and she had stopped. She had in a small way defended him from her own brother, even though Ron was probably justified to some extent for picking on his mother even. Then she had brought over a peace offering for him. Draco knew better than anyone that it took more to stand up for something everyone else went against than it was to stand with everyone else and he couldn't deny that Ginny Weasley was feisty and determined but she was innately good too. Well most of her at least.

"You know, I really wish I never met you, woman." He said lazily without the usual bite to his words, the sun making him fatigued and the light flowery scent the breeze wafted to him making breathing in the stench he had the entire morning, all the more worth while.

Draco didn't wait for her reply as he turned on the spot and vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

**Redeeming Draco Malfoy**

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

**SHE **handed him something that looked vaguely familiar and Draco narrowed his eyes at it. He really did not want to trust anything the she Weasley politely offered him and so he sniffed haughtily and turned his sharp nose up at it. However, the red head simply continued to look expectantly up at him and so Draco turned his gaze to her offering.

It was the expensive robes he had left behind yesterday, after his first task outside her home. Surprise warred with the need to say something scathing, like he didn't want anything her poor hands had sullied. However, he reminded himself that they were no longer at Hogwarts and he was not a pretentious brat anymore. Well, maybe less so.

"You left this behind yesterday, so I thought I'd wash it and bring it to you today." Weasley shrugged awkwardly and in that moment Draco realised that his earlier word described her returning of his robes ideally.

It was an offering. One of peace. "You think that washing a dress robe I left behind erases what you've already done?" He snatched his robes from her hands, unable to hold back his viperous tongue. The expensive material wafted a soft scent towards him and its pleasant smell made Draco somewhat uncomfortable at his harshness.

She didn't look taken aback by his words or reaction though. Instead she inhaled visibly and looked up at him, brown eyes blazing and fierce. "Do you think that cleaning one pigsty will ever erase some of what _you've_ already done?"

And in that moment, Ginny Weasley's honest words cut through the quick of everything that Draco had recently been feeling. The anger at his father, the indignation over his situation, the pity for himself and the loathing for her. He was bare and vulnerable, left open to her scrutiny and he didn't like it one bloody bit. But he also realised that he was finally empty. There were no paltry prejudices or passion for power any longer and he could finally hold within himself only that which he wanted to.

He gave her a quick smirk before looking around the expanse of country area she had asked him to meet her at. "Where to from here, then?"

* * *

They never did end up going back to Ottery St Catchpole – to fix broom sheds or de-gnome gardens – for which Draco was eternally grateful. He didn't think he could stomach the sight of a self righteous Potter or worse, a gloating Weasley again and he certainly did not want to be tortured by memories of his first embarrassment either.

That was something Draco wanted desperately to forget.

It was still too fresh in his mind to ever want to go back to anything that reminded him of pigsties and he had sorely been put off from his beloved bacon or anything related to pork of late. His mother didn't blame him. Narcissa Malfoy was awfully upset by her son's first task and was about to go have "a few words with that Weasley girl" when Draco had halted her.

Draco may not be ready to relive his past but he had accepted it. In a funny way, the shame of living with being saved by Potter, then punched by Weasley during the war was nothing compared to that pigsty, because at least he hadn't owed the pigs anything. In a strange way, the incident felt like the worse had been over and done with, allowing Draco to finally move on. He had certainly earned some reprieve from the littlest Weasley as well.

Draco looked over at the girl in question. "Oh really, Madam Booth, I would think much better of your taste." He heard Weasley say in horror to a middle aged witch who laughed merrily at managing to shock the younger witch.

At first Draco had found it odd that Weasley could hold a conversation with anyone. Whether she was threading cotton through tiny needle holes for batty old coots, chasing little monsters who had unfortunately tagged along with their parents, or chatting enthusiastically with dull middle aged folks, the Weasley girl always had something to say. And nothing as mundane as the day's weather either.

She was apparently well read and extremely sociable. Of course she never was that way with him. While they had come to a silent treaty of being as polite to each other as they could be in company – they never could miss the opportunity to trade barbs while alone – they didn't actually spend much time talking.

Not that Draco wanted to make conversation with the red head, it was just that he would have appreciated her verbal diarrhoea, compared to the way she sometimes watched him. Especially since they were spending a lot of time together. Draco would often look up from a task or his lunch and find her staring at him with a heavy frown creasing her creamy skin.

At least the activities now were not as awful as he had anticipated. He was left to help with much manual labour, which he didn't mind because it gave him a chance to physically exert himself and Draco quite liked the way his body had started to react to the combination of his morning runs around Malfoy Manor and his duties for the Repentance Workshop.

It was also an added bonus when he met other witches on the workshop's sites, who seemed very much interested in admiring the way his shirts seemed to stretch against his body as he lifted heavy debris or knocked a hammer around. It must be said that he could do much with magic as well but that was the purpose of Weasley's activities. For him to experience things the way Muggles do. It had its advantages.

"Like now." Draco muttered to himself as a particularly good looking brunette approached him. Her green eyes sparkled mischievously as she bent down to pick up a paint brush from near Draco so he got a wonderful view of her derrière.

Draco smirked as he mentally recounted the number of witches who had given him permission to owl them after the Repentance Workshop was over, even though he had to tell them that he was in a relationship with Weasley. That never seemed to bother them though, all sultry smiles, and wistful winks. Sometimes pretty pouts after watching him with Weasley.

That alone was what he liked about the witches he met, they were all of his standards, all someone he knew from either Hogwarts or out of school – and he particularly looked forward to owl-ing the slightly older witches – who had taken an avid interest in him. These witches were also there for similar reasons to his and Draco liked that he didn't have to mask who he had been to attract any of them.

Draco gave the witch eyeing him a particularly charming smile and he watched as her bright eyes immediately sparkled with joy at the attention. Before Draco could slither a little closer to her, the paint hanging above them for ceiling work, mysteriously toppled over and coloured the flirtatious witch white.

Draco choked back his laughter and turned suspicious eyes behind him. He found Weasley approaching him with a satisfied look of mischievous proportions gracing her features as the witch now covered in paint shrieked unbecomingly and ran off.

It was one of the things that intrigued Draco. Weasley had obviously picked up on a few of her twin brothers' propensity for delighting in mischief making. Something that Draco found he rather liked, because it made her human. When her eyes found him her expression immediately turned dour.

"Pathetic." The petite red head tapped her foot impatiently next to him with crossed arms. The attention Draco so thoroughly enjoyed was much to Weasley's consternation.

Draco focused his attention on Weasley who had a spot of white paint on her forehead, as if she had unintentionally pushed back a rebellious tendril of red hair in frustration. She never had to participate in any of the tasks that were set out for him and the rest, but unlike the other self righteous assessors, Weasley was always thrilled to help.

None of those things concerned Draco though, he was simply pleased that she had finally started being somewhat objective to him and he didn't necessarily have to risk her ire with the evilness of her tasks. At least verbally sparring with the little Weasel allowed him to feel as if he was on the same level as her. He also found that he rather enjoyed it too.

Their barbs tended not to be too personal or too sensitive in nature, but sometimes when arguments became heated, they happened to cross a few lines. Which always left them fuming and storming away from one another, as both were very stubborn and didn't like being wrong or apologising.

Of course Draco had to report back to Weasley the next day and thankfully it seemed enough to appease her, so they both forgot yesterday, only thinking of new ways to insult each other the next day. Draco smiled slightly at the thought.

"Weasley, how is it pathetic that witches find me naturally attractive?"

She gave him a disgusted look. "No amount of workshops could ever rid you of you philanderer tendencies."

Draco arched an eyebrow at that. "It isn't philandering, as you so bluntly put it, if the women in question know what they're signing up for."

"You're right, that's just stupidity." Ginny said with more of a put off look than before. Her button nose scrunched up delicately and her neatly shaped eyebrows drew together, pretty brown eyes whirring with confusion, as if considering how anyone could find him appealing.

Draco gave a low chuckle to disguise his affront. Had it been any other, fairly attractive woman, he might have felt obliged to show her how appealing he really could be. "No, that's just taste, Weasel."

She rolled her big brown eyes at him and then sighed in resignation of their argument. "Let's go have lunch."

Draco nodded and set down his paint brush before walking behind Weasley. He did not miss the opportunity to give another young witch watching their argument with excitement a grey eyed wink and she smiled sultrily at that. At which Weasley huffed in exasperation and reached behind her, grabbing his forearm to make sure he was walking beside her and had not stopped to chat up the pretty witch and lose track of time. Draco wondered if she had eyes in the back of her head because Weasley could always tell when he was being distracted.

Draco was no longer perturbed by the way Weasley's slender fingers curled around his arm or tugged on his shirt, in fact, her touch had become warm and coaxing, comfortable even.

Weasley liked the open lands and fresh air and Draco thought that that was probably why she always smelled sweetly of fresh flowers. And since she was a bossy little chit who could burn holes through his clothes with flashing brown eyes, Draco resigned himself to eating with her. Which had eased into something comfortable and unrestricted, unless he caught her eyeing him with blatant curiosity that was.

They plopped down on a grass bank and Draco actually felt a little rebellious at his actions nowadays. His father had sent him numerous letters – all of which he hadn't replied to, of course – asking him to do whatever it took to help Lucius' trial in the coming months and that annoyed Draco. However just the thought of what his sire would think if Malfoy senior could see his son sitting comfortably with a Weasley was almost worth it. Almost.

Draco didn't much fancy the fact that Weasley was ultimately still the one in control of his life, but he was grateful that she no longer rubbed it in his face or tried to demean him with that fact now. Although she certainly did make him work for everything, something Draco had oddly grown accustomed to, after his initial bout of flagrant disgust. After her last question, about this workshop making amends for what he had done, he realised that it wasn't easy to forget. Something he knew all too well.

Draco lifted his wand and Weasley held out her palms to him so he could charm them clean. She then took the magical instrument from his hand and acted in kind before handing it back to him. She opened the bag she carried everyday and handed him his lunch for the day. They did all this naturally, not thinking really, simply moving with the familiarity of their routine.

Draco unwrapped the neat lunch Weasley had packed for him and he couldn't deny that she provided him with much better food than his mother was at the moment. Not that he would ever admit that to Weasley of course, but it actually was a lovely change from eating out or his mother's attempts at char grilled meals.

Draco actually found that he didn't quite mind eating outside any longer. Dining under the still blue skies and relaxing with the sounds of birds chirping nearby, a slight rustle of wind cooling him down from the morning's activities and the soft breathing of his assessor near him had become relaxing. Weasley's presence no longer grated on his nerves.

While proper decorum saw that Draco hardly even dropped a crumb on himself, the same could not be said for Weasley. The red head had atrocious eating etiquette. She always managed to dribble sauce down her chin, end up with sticky fingers or sometimes a piece of food in between her teeth. She loved food, but really, she always ate with gusto and sometimes made odd sounds of appreciation that Draco thought highly inappropriate for anywhere but the bedroom.

She also enjoyed reading the Daily Prophet or browsing through a book during their eating time. Apparently, as much as Weasley enjoyed her food, she couldn't just focus on her feeding herself neatly. She had to have her mind occupied as well and didn't like wasting time. He wondered what she had been like as a child then, with all that excess energy.

"Urgh, that woman." Weasley cursed as she disgustedly threw the Daily Prophet down beside them and bit into her roll once more.

"What has she done this time?" Draco asked.

The newspapers and magazines of the Wizarding world had finally started to print their versions of his relations with Weasley. While some were calling it the love story of the century – Draco scoffed at this – some were attacking Weasley, himself or them both.

The first was hilarious, as it seemed that some reporters fancied themselves aspiring romance novelists, because some of the tripe they spouted would never be true, even if Weasley and himself were an item.

"The fiercely beautiful red head, who is famous for dating powerful wizards, has managed to turn the cold hearted and corrupt Draco Malfoy into a wizard every young girl should want on her arm and every mother should want as her son-in-law, if the amount of charities he has been funding and aiding of late, is anything to go by."

Really? Had they met Weasley? Draco thought as he only half listened to her reading out loud.

Weasley on the other hand was being called a gold digger by some, bringing up her disadvantaged past and making her out to be nothing more than a scheming money grubber. Which wasn't quite far off to what Draco would have initially expected from her or labelled her himself. However, after spending a week with Weasley, he could tell without a shadow of a doubt, that gold meant absolutely nothing to her. Mostly because of how cavalier she had been about giving away his own wealth.

While still under Ministry jurisdiction, the Malfoy's requests for gold for personal uses was first subjected to week long clearances before allowing Draco and Narcissa withdrawals. A bother when his father's finest firewhisky had been drained out or his mother needed a new set of dress robes for her charity events – but not so much when it came to donations for magical Britain. Therefore Draco knew that Weasley was not avaricious, as she had had many an easy opportunity to commit fraud.

If nothing else – bad eating habits and dominating traits aside – she was an honest witch. Of the highest standards. While Draco would have been blasé about such a characteristic trait before, he was glad that she was his assessor now, if only because he knew she would treat him and his wealth fairly.

Then, of course there were the never ending accusations that he was simply courting Weasley for status and to ensure she kept him out of Azkaban. That would be closer to the truth than any of the other rubbish the wizarding rags were publishing, however Draco was most pleased to say that he had not had to do anything underhanded to make Weasley see him in a different light. Apparently his cleaning of a pigsty had seen to that, which also made it easier for Draco to overlook that incident now. They were beyond that at least.

This also made Draco feel surprisingly free and happy about their situation. Unencumbered, because he knew that whatever Weasley's final decision was, he would have personally earned it. Not something he was able to say about any of his other … _accomplishments_ in the past.

"Someone has mentioned that I dated Harry back at school and Skeeter has managed to drag him into it. Apparently the reason Harry has "_fled" _England was so he could get over his heartbreak and I should be ashamed of myself for ditching _"the best wizard in the Universe"_ for the complete antithesis of Harry Potter _"and all that is good, for social advancement, power and wealth!"._ Really, how convenient that she did not mention how very wealthy a wizard Harry is?!"

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Normally articles of them were something that Weasley overlooked because if anyone was to blame for it, it was her. However this one must have really gotten to her as she had quoted directly from the critique. All because they had mentioned Potter.

"I must owl Harry tonight, as if he needs the extra publicity and that woman just loves sullying his name. Horrible cow." Weasley continued to rant as she snapped furiously at her food and chewed in frustration.

Draco didn't like it when Weasley spoke so highly of Potter because regardless of being the saviour of the world, Draco still didn't like Potter and he doubted he ever would. Draco may not hate Potter anymore but that didn't mean he liked the other wizard either.

"He is wealthy?" Draco asked, because he couldn't think of anything else to say and the silence between them felt too awkward to maintain.

Weasley looked like she had said too much. Then, she shrugged. "His parents left him very well taken care off and his Godfather was a Black."

Draco looked more uncomfortable at the mention of a dead relative he had never met before. His mother had never spoken to him about Sirius or Andromeda. To be honest, he had never bothered to ask either. After all, what had he cared for blood traitors?

"So, what happened between you and Potter, then?" Draco asked more to change the subject than any real interest in the answer, but he noticed Weasley stiffening beside him. This made him curious.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed that she wasn't glaring daggers at him but merely seemed to be lost in thought, as she looked out at the clear skies before them. He was glad that it hadn't begun to rain and become gloomy just yet.

She took a long while to speak and her silence only made Draco realise that he was actually all the more intrigued to know what had happened. It was obvious that they weren't a couple anymore because she had not pointed out that she would never leave Potter and she was madly in love with him.

"If I tell you, will you answer something for me as well?" Draco was not exactly surprised by her request. Weasley could be very shrewd when she wanted to be.

Although, there were things that he didn't wish to talk about but he didn't think that Weasley was the type of shallow minded witch who wanted to ask about battle scars or what it had been like to go after Mudbloods for the Dark Lord. There was also, possibly very little that she didn't know about his life since they had been to school together and so, after a thoughtful pause, Draco acquiesced.

"It just fell apart." Draco tuned to look at her because he was surprised that there was no whining bitterness or resentment in her voice. There was neither any longing or regret in her tone. Her eyes were clear and accepting. "Harry is wonderful and amazing but that was the problem."

Draco couldn't help but snort at that. "Yes, he does tend to become rather annoying with how wonderful he is, doesn't he."

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked way. Draco noticed a small spot of sauce below her full bottom lip, but refrained from mentioning this little fact to her. He didn't mind her walking around in embarrassment. Aright, so Draco might have still been faintly peeved abut the pigsty.

"Actually, you're partly right, but I didn't mind it at the time. It was one of the things I really liked about him." Draco was really confused but he was not going to admit that to Weasley so he was glad when she continued on her own.

"He kept putting me last. At first it was fine, things were still relatively new between us and he had a war to fight. I understood. Then when he came back, we won, but it was still about everyone else first. Making sure the family was fine, rounding up the other Death Eaters, sitting in on trials, clearing Sirius' name, but it was never solely about me."

Then she did sound a bit bitter but Draco didn't blame her. She had obviously waited a long time for Potter. She had had a crush on him for ages. Draco could also completely understand the way she felt. One of the things that had annoyed him about the other wizard was how self righteous Potter could be. Everything was ultimately black and white for Saint Potter and maybe in the great Chosen One's world, everything was, but not for everyone.

"At first I blamed myself because I had always been so strong and capable of handling my emotions, but that was just who I was and Harry liked that about me. But I was also a girl who had just fought in a war, seen people die … lost loved ones." At this, her voice cracked and Draco looked away uneasily.

However Weasley seemed to be too lost in thought to realise. Draco cleared his throat softly and she blinked before coming back to it and continuing. "And I needed him. So naturally I took matters in my own hands."

"Naturally." Draco added snidely and wasn't surprised when she shot him a dark glare. Yet she continued on anyway and he didn't stop her.

"Somehow it just stopped feeling right. It felt like I was always giving more and he was still just half way in it. Of course no one could accuse the great Harry Potter of being selfish, Merlin forbid, with all he was doing it would come across as if I was behaving like a self-centred little girl." Ginny shrugged but Draco could tell that the thought had bothered her.

"I'm only human and I felt like I deserved some part of him too; however he never gave that to me, I always came last. He could barely even bring himself to open up to me, as if I couldn't handle it. As the weeks went into months and our relationship felt more stagnant than ever, as if I would just be there when he decided he wanted me, I realised that even while I was with him, something was missing."

"I wasn't unhappy mind you, but neither was I happy and it confused me. Until I realised that I wasn't a twelve year old girl anymore. Or even sixteen for that after." She gave a wry laugh that was soft and melodious and Draco couldn't help but be more enraptured by her tale.

"However the war grew us all up, made us wiser beyond our years and I could tell that being with Harry would always leave me feeling content. Fine, you know. Simply existing and I didn't want that any longer. I wanted more."

She looked up at him with beseeching eyes and Draco swallowed. She was obviously looking for reassurance and he wondered if she had spoken to anyone else about this. He had never been one with words before, unless they were to insult or cut down, and he had never deemed them necessary with a witch either. Pansy spoke for both of them and she had always preferred to interpret his silences in which ever way suited her best, unless he did say otherwise.

Draco watched as Ginny's eyes became uncertain at his silence and he knew he had just led her to believe that she was a horrible, selfish person. However she had looked for reassurance in the wrong place.

"Right, err, we better get back then. It's getting late." She gave him a strained smile and got up, dusting her jeans haphazardly as she gathered all their things to leave.

Draco felt frustrated, sitting there while she made off, clearly harried. He felt annoyed that Weasley would look to him of all people for reassurance and more pissed off with himself for wishing that he had given it to. It wasn't really a feeling he understood because he certainly shouldn't care what the Weasley thought, but she hadn't been selfish and he knew that. That was the truth, and he should have told her that, if nothing else.

* * *

Ginny was keeping away cans of paint and paintbrushes by hand when large palms took a particularly big brush from her hold.

Ginny looked up startled, her fingers automatically clinging tighter around the wooden handle. Malfoy's hands weren't cold or slimy as she would have expected them to be. It was warm and strong and there was something so reassuring about them that Ginny felt her grip loosen as he pried the brush from her fingers.

Surprised, Ginny could only arch an eyebrow at him as he normally did with her. She saw a ghost of a smirk dance across his shapely lips before he looked straight into her eyes. There was something set and determined that glinted there and she was glad she hadn't spoken yet.

"You're not selfish, you know. If anyone deserves that title, it's me." He spoke so simply and easily that Ginny sank down to the plastic covered floor. Half in shock and half in relief. She really had been burdened after her confession earlier on. Malfoy's silence had made her feel like a right cow.

"Bullocks!" Was all a flabbergasted Ginny could manage.

"Language, Weasley. Such vulgar words are not fit for a lady." Draco said primly as he too settled down before her.

Ginny reached out hesitantly, her tiny hand moving out before her as Draco eyed her fingers wearily. "What are you doing?" He asked softly, uncertainly.

It was that hesitancy that reminded Ginny how human he really was. He was prone to being wary and scared, uncertain and uncomfortable and by the Gods, Draco Malfoy could actually be nice to a blood traitor. Because there had been no spite or sarcasm in his words. He also hadn't just said it because he knew it was what she had wanted to hear. He had meant them; Malfoy had understood her when no one else had. Not even Harry, not in the way she had needed the other wizard to.

Ginny's fingers ran softly along his high cheekbones and down to the inward curve of his cheeks and strong jaw. She felt his face beneath her fingers clench and Ginny became more brazen by that, instead of put off. She grazed the underneath of his pointy chin, which no longer made his face look haggard and unsightly, with the back of her fingers, before returning to caress to his cheeks once again, uncertain when her touch had become enjoyable for her.

It had not meant to be such an intimate caress yet her fingers seemed to have a mind of its own as soon as they met Draco's face. Draco?

"I'm making sure you're you and not someone else using polyjuice potion to complete the workshop." Her words sounded a little strange even to her, her voice soft and husky and she had to mentally ask if that really was her.

"Idiot." Malfoy muttered and swatted her hand away, yet Ginny couldn't help but notice that his words weren't mean but slightly unnerved and his hand that had pushed away hers, wasn't harsh.

So she grinned up at him and sat back with her hands behind her after pulling out her wand. She did a complex wave that looked effortless with her ability and the room immediately started to right itself. Draco looked around and she knew he was amazed at how much of the room was his work. She could tell he was feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment at seeing what he had put in and produced for the restoration of the homes the war had damaged. Ginny also couldn't help but notice that sitting on cold floors had become habitual for him now. Where as the old Malfoy used to fuss and look down in contempt at her, this new Malfoy, a growing one, no longer did so.

"You could have done that earlier and yet even though you aren't the one who needs to prove themselves, you still help in the tasks, without magic." He said casually with a disinterested shrug but Ginny blushed involuntarily.

She hadn't expected him to take notice of what she was doing but he was right. "I'm not new to doing things the Muggle way. We were never allowed to do things with magic when underage."

Malfoy scoffed but he refrained from making a scornful remark about her family and it didn't slip Ginny's notice. Then she thought about their conversation earlier on. "So, I think the next test is to see if you can keep your word."

Malfoy looked at her. "I've always kept up to my word, Weasley." At Ginny's disbelieving look, he added, "To those who matter, of course."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well let's see if you can keep your word to someone who doesn't matter. That is what really counts, you know." When Malfoy didn't say anything more, Ginny continued. "Why haven't you visited your father as yet?"

Ginny watched as Malfoy's head snapped up to look at her. He did it so fast a lock of his normally well held hair fell forward. His gaze turned hard. "How do you know that?" His voice was icy and withdrawn again. She wondered how he controlled his emotions so well.

Ginny shrugged. "I checked." She said simply. When he continued to glare mutinously at her Ginny continued. "I told you something personal about my life – "

"You didn't have to." He cut in.

Ginny ignored him. "In return you promised to answer a question of mine."

Malfoy glared at her for a long moment but Ginny was no longer intimidated by his dark looks. He had stared at her so fiercely so many times the past week that she had actually become accustomed to his steely gazes. She did not feel a jot of uncertainty at his glare now.

While Malfoy possessed a freezing veneer, Ginny wondered how much of that was actually just him protecting his many vulnerabilities. She decided that the best thing she could have done first up was to throw him into that pigsty and the best thing Ron could ever do was push Malfoy.

It had certainly showed Ginny a side of the wizard she had never been privy to before. A more mature and stronger Malfoy. A man who would try to make amended for his mistakes, someone who did regret what he had done. Even if he still was a callous, prickly, taciturn oaf, he was far better than who he used to be. After Ginny had returned his robes to him and they had traded words, they had disregarded most awkwardness between them and then argued as to who would be doing the apparating. Which had led them to falling back on their mutual dislike for one another.

That was alright. It was something they knew and felt comfortable with. Not liking each other was easy to deal with. A glower here, an insult there – nothing new, all done before.

"I worshiped my father." Draco finally said when Ginny thought she needed to push a little more. Because she never was one to be easily dissuaded. "I would always go to him to complain or ask for something, even though I went to mother for sympathy and affection. I think I valued what father said the most." He gave a self depreciating smile.

Ginny noticed that he didn't look at her though, he stared off into the distance, his simmering grey eyes shining with loss and Ginny felt her heart unwillingly lurch for him. She knew loss. Just because his father was alive, it didn't mean that Draco hadn't lost someone too. The man Draco had known was gone now. Replaced by all the bad things Draco could remember about the man because those were the memories still fresh in his mind, salt to his wounds.

"We were pure bloods, we had to maintain that. He always told me that and I always believed him. I still do." At this, Malfoy looked up as if asking Ginny to contradict him or hate him but she kept silent, waiting for him to finish. "Yet I don't believe that we have to fight or kill for it. You shouldn't force people to follow an age old way. The only constant is change."

Ginny heard the unspoken words in his voice. How he had been forced to do things he didn't want to do. The result of failure was not something pretty and Ginny realised that during Voldemort's reign, the Malfoy's had been just as good as Muggles, Muggle borns or half bloods. Possibly even worse. If Voldemort's followers refused to comply with orders, there would be no mercy, no escape from their master's wrath for them.

Draco saw understanding flash in Ginny's eyes. He gave her a cold smirk. "Yes, it was no better being on the inside than it was on the outside. Unless you were as demented as Bellatrix or even as inconsiderate as my father. He killed people." Ginny saw Draco grit his teeth at this admission, a muscle in his jaw ticking in anger. "I had never really understood what that had meant until I was asked to do it too."

Ginny couldn't believe that Malfoy was speaking so frankly with her and so she didn't make a single noise for fear of scaring him into stopping. She wondered if he had told anyone about this before. His voice was rusty and uncertain. She had never before stopped to actually think about those that were caught in between. The ones that had been cursed with the choice their parents or elders had already made. Those who never had the opportunity to make their own decisions.

What if her parents and family had been apart of the Death Eaters, would she have felt as prejudiced as the Slytherins had? Ginny would like to think not, but she could have been just as messed up as Draco had been. And that, essentially, was what he was. Nothing about him was innocent nor evil.

"No." Draco hissed sharply and Ginny jumped slightly at his tone. "Don't pity me." He said harshly. "As much as I did it to protect myself and my family, at first I wanted the power the Dark Lord was offering me. Complete antithesis of Potter you said, and that's what I wanted to be. Yet I would have been revered and favoured just as much if I completed my mission."

Ginny didn't agree or disagree with this confession. Because it was so sincere and unflattering. His words were raw but determined not to garner any pity from her. Whether because he felt himself unworthy of it, or too prideful to accept it, she couldn't quite tell. However Ginny was not so cold hearted as to remain unmoved by Malfoy's honest vulnerability.

"I always preferred to stand on the side lines but I was also miserable over Potter's standing in our world. I felt that he didn't deserve any of it and I craved power. I was greedy for it as first, until I realised at what price it came. So I reverted, weakly trying to sit on the fences once again. That may not make me the best being alive but it is who I am, it's what I was taught and I didn't know better until I learned about it for myself. I wouldn't kill, but I wouldn't help either."

At this Ginny couldn't help but think that that was not entirely true. He may not have been strong enough to help but he hadn't immediately turned Harry, Ron and Hermione in at Malfoy Manor either. He had given them ample time to escape. He didn't like Voldemort and he didn't like Harry as well, but he never agreed with either of them. He went along his own way and caused trouble where he could.

So had Harry, Ron, Hermione and even herself. They might have been fighting for the right cause but they hadn't tried to help anyone on the other side for all their morals. Malfoy was just an insufferable, arrogant git but that was what he was. Nothing more, nothing less. He wasn't evil. The thought made Ginny feel elated. She didn't have to feel conflicted about her decisions over his fate any longer.

Deciding to call it a night Ginny got up. She dusted herself but didn't take her eyes off of Malfoy. "I think there might be hope for you yet, Malfoy."


End file.
